


If I Was Mixed Up With You

by Smolbeep



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Cute, Fluff, Housemates, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry Charity Barnum, Kisses, M/M, P. T. Barnum Needs a Hug, Romance, Slow Burn, barlyle - Freeform, mild mention of nightmares, snuggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-06-12 14:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolbeep/pseuds/Smolbeep
Summary: When Phillip is is visited by an intoxicated guest, he ends up gaining an unexpected housemate.Living with your best friend and work partner isn't always easy, however it gets a lot harder once new feelings begin to work their way into the mix.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So honestly, I've never really written barlyle before. At least not a whole fic worth. This will be attempt number one in what will hopefully be many more.  
> I've recently been trying really hard to improve on my writing skills, hence a shiny new Ao3 to start posting on! Please let me know what I can improve on and what you like or dislike so that I can keep on making my writing better and hopefully help contribute to such a lovely fandom. <3
> 
> Also special thanks to Schizanthus for editing for me and offering constant motivation and support. I wouldn't have started writing again without you, you're an excellent friend and I am very grateful for all your help. 
> 
> Thank you very much, and please enjoy! ~

A loud insistent knocking tore Phillip from his sleep and he groaned as he rolled over to press his face into his pillow. He’d never been a morning person and it must have only been-

He groggily lifted his head to squint at the gently ticking grandfather clock in the far corner through bleary eyes.

3am.

His head hit the pillow once more until another bout of cacophonous knocks dragged him to his feet through sleep deprived grouchiness. It was probably that inconvenience of a woman who lived in the apartment across the hall again, she had a habit of coming over at odd hours to snap at him over noises he wasn’t making. Phillip suspected she was a touch mad, though what could he do other than apologise to her each time? It wasn’t worth the effort to start an argument.

Groggily pushing his slippers onto his feet, he shuffled out of his bedroom and made a short detour by the bathroom mirror to smooth back his hair before heading to the door. It took him a few attempts to find the right key in the decorative little ceramic willow bowl on the nearby shelf.

The knocks continued the entire time he fumbled to get it unlocked half asleep and it made his eyes roll in his head. The sheer cheek of banging down someone’s door at 3am was entirely unreasonable, nothing could possibly be this urgent. He’d be having words with the landlord in the morning.

“Alright, alright. Jesus, I’m coming,” He grumbled, giving the door a tug open. “What do you-“

“Ah Philliiiiip, finally!”

Phil felt his surprise quickly turn to confusion as he took in the sight of his co-ringleader in the hallway. Barnum was a man Phillip regarded with the utmost respect for more reasons than one; his wild imagination, his borderline manipulative charm, that ability to never quit. Right now, he wasn’t holding quite the same air of respectability about him. The man’s hair was a mess and his cravat hung loose around his collar. It doesn't take long to figure out he was far beyond intoxicated. It was the swaying posture and pungent alcoholic stench that gave it away before Phillip even noticed the half empty whisky bottle gripped tightly by the neck in one hand.

“Why’re you in yuur nightshirt? Put on some pants we have Circus business to dizscus…”

“PT, it’s 3am.”

Phillip griped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger to rub away the headache threatening to grow behind his eyes.

“You’re drunk. Really drunk. Come in, you can sleep on my couch. You can’t be out wandering around like this,” he mumbled, tugging the door open a little wider and shifting back a step as the taller man stumbled inside, clumsily bumping into the little table and almost knocking the key bowl onto the floor. Phil caught it, thankfully.

“I have this vision” Barnum slurred obliviously, pacing into the middle of the living room and glancing around appraisingly at the neatly kept space decorated mostly with displayed books. “Bears. That can ride horzes. We can train them to do trick riding. They could wear hats! The audience would love it, people would come from…from all over to see that.”

“I’m sure they would,” Phillip offered, taking advantage of Barnum’s distraction to gently tug the bottle out of his hand. He carefully placed it onto a nearby shelf before taking the older man’s arm to lead him to the couch. “We can talk about this tomorrow. You’re gonna have the hangover from hell. How much did you drink? You smell like a brewery.”

“No time like the preshent! If you don’t like that I haf….I have more ideas. I have-” Barnum argued cheerfully, tugging away from Phillip’s grip and stumbling sideways into one of the bookshelves. He knocked over a few books and sent a small marble Shakespeare bust bookend tumbling to the ground. It thankfully didn’t break on the carpet. He stared at it for a moment as if unsure what it even was, then carelessly stepped over it to stride into the kitchen.

The younger man groaned in exhaustion, stopping to put his bookend back in its place and re-tidy the shelf before jogging in after Barnum, who was now attempting to get a glass out of the cabinet.

“PT, no!” Phillip exclaimed as he jogged over to catch a decorative glass teetering precariously close to the edge of the shelf, gently yet firmly tugging Barnum away from the cupboard by his shoulder. “Just... let me get you some water, okay? Please stop touching things.”

“Water? I was gonna have sommmething stronger.” Barnum responded in disapproval, but he didn’t seem to put up much of a fight. Phillip wondered if he’d even be able to without falling over.

“Trust me PT, you’ll thank me in the morning.” Phillip yawned as he pulled a jug of water over and carefully filled the cup half full before handing it to the intoxicated mess of a ringmaster before him. “Why are you heavily inebriated and in my apartment at three in the morning? I feel like we need to have a serious conversation about work partner boundaries.”

Phillip couldn’t miss the sour face Barnum pulled at him and briefly wondered if he was offended or just on the verge of painting his expensive Turkish carpets with the contents of his stomach. 

“Ihm not….I habn’t drunk that much.”

“I can entirely confirm, as someone who knows the signs well, that you are soused up to the eyeballs.”

Phillip watched as Barnum gave him a woozy glare before attempting to down the glass of water, missing his mouth a little and getting it all down himself. It would have been funny if he wasn’t so exhausted.

“Seriously PT, what is Charity gonna think when you don’t come home tonight?” Phillip scolded gently, not missing the flinch in Barnum’s features. He pulled his hand back slowly from where he’d been about to grab Barnum’s elbow and instead rested it on his own hip, taking in his friend’s eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. They looked a little swollen, even for someone drinking heavily. He had been upset. Recently. Not to mention the fact he’d never been a heavy drinker. Come to think of it, Phil wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever seen the man drunk before, certainly not to this extent.

“…What happened.”

“Nuff….Nothing.”

“PT.” His tone left no room for argument. It was too early in the morning to deal with his work partner’s stubbornness.

The older man frowned and shoved his empty glass onto the marble kitchen counter, then folding his arms and leaning his back against the wall. Phillip was just pleased he was finally remaining stationary. He could tell his fuddled visitor wasn’t going to co-operate easily, he was going to have to do most of the work.

“Did something happen between you and Charity?”

“It’s none of yuur busizzness….”

“It damn well is if you’re gonna wake me up and come into my home drunk off your ass at three in the morning because of it.” Phil snapped, getting impatient. “Tell me what happened.”

“No.”

“Then you can either sleep on my couch or go home, I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about Circus stuff right now.”

“Can’t go home.“

“You can and will if you don’t-“

“Me ‘n Chairy separated.”

Phillip’s mouth shut quietly at the words, all thoughts of argument draining. He paused for a while, taking in the man leaning drunkenly against his wall, eyes now fixed on the ground in a broken glare.

“She shtill wants to be my friend buh she can’t luhve me, not after I ruined everything.” Barnum suddenly started to blurt out, like the cork had been unscrewed. “I don’t know ihf I lub her either anymore. I can’t go back home, I don’t wanna face everything. I don’t want to go back to being alone again buh’ is that a good enough reason to stay married? I don’t have answers to give her.”

Phillip sinks back and leans against the counter, feeling an awful sick pang of commiseration. Barnum had been with Charity since they were both children themselves, they had children together and been married a great many years. No wonder the man was in a state. Phillip watched as Barnum pressed a palm to one eye for a brief moment, trying to be discrete.

Slowly he moved over and placed a hesitant hand against Barnum’s upper arm, giving it a reassuring pat. “Listen, I’ll make some coffee. We can stay up as long as you want and talk about the Circus. Don’t worry about figuring this stuff out until morning when you’re sobering up.”

“You’re tired, you don’t haf…have to shtay up-“

Ignoring Barnum’s slurred protests, he took his arm and carefully led him over to the couch, sitting him down quite forcefully by the shoulders.

“I’m already awake now anyway. I’d rather sit and talk than try to go back to sleep and listen to you stumbling around breaking even more of my possessions than you already have”. Without giving the man a chance to argue he headed back into the kitchen to boil water on the stove, one of the very few things he actually used the room for. “So tell me more about those horse riding bears”.

“I shouldn’t hahve come here. I’m sorry.” Barnum called back weakly. “Shouldn’t have woken you up. You need your beauty shleep”.

“Watch it, I heard that.” Phillip responded sharply. “If anyone here needs beauty sleep it’s the one of us who has crows feet.”

“Wrinkles give a man dignity and reslpectability, nuffing to be ‘shamed of.”

“PT, nothing about you at this moment in time screams respectability to me.”

When Phillip was met with a lack of response, he finished pouring hot water over crushed coffee beans and left them to stew while he poked his head around the door. He let his lips tug up at the corners in relief as he watched the unconscious older man breathing softly from where he was slumped over the sofa like a gorilla.

“At least you can’t break anything like this.” He muttered under his breath, muffling a quiet titter.

As exhaustion took over, Phillip allowed his eyelids to droop. Coffee abandoned, he tipped it into a clean pot for reheating come more reasonable hours of the morning. He then re-filled Barnum’s empty glass of water, slid his waste paper bin to the side of the sofa with his foot, and rummaged the closet for a spare knit blanket to drape over the older man.

“At least you can’t possibly ever make jokes about inebriated activities at my expense after this. I’ve never turned up at your abode in the middle of the night and passed out on your couch.”

As true as the statement was, he had to admit he probably owed his partner this much. There had been more than one occasion in which he’d over exerted himself at the bar and Barnum had insisted on helping him home. He’d been more than a work partner in all the time they’d run the circus together, he was a good friend. Possibly the best Phillip had ever had.

Watching Barnum’s chest rise and fall for another few moments, Phil affectionately gave the man’s cheek a gentle pat before turning to retreat back to his bedroom. Morning was going to be significantly less fun than he’d been anticipating but he’d worry about that when the time came. Barnum needed the sleep and so did he, he'd help figure out what was needed when the time came.

 

In the meantime, he rarely used that sofa anyway. Having a housemate wouldn’t be so bad.


	2. When Morning Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hungover but back in his right mind, Barnum finds new living arrangements. Phillip will do anything to help out his best friend and partner, but with the task comes new challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Busy few weeks. Hopefully there will be more to come very soon.  
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! <3

“Good morning. It’s ten. You need to get up.”

Phillip watched in amusement as Barnum screwed up his features and pressed his face into the couch cushion with a groan. He’d never been awake first before, usually when he stumbled into the office at 11, it was Barnum greeting him with a smug grin and a snide remark about looking tired. It felt nice to be on the other side for once.

Grabbing the corner of the knit blanket, he tugged the hungover man free of his warm cocoon.

“C’mon PT.”

“Go away.”

“We have a Circus to run, in case you’ve forgotten.”

The words seemed to drag Barnum from his groggy sleep and he slumped into a lazy sitting position, holding his head in one hand.

“I think I’m going to vomit.”

“There’s a bin next to you,” Phillip assured gently, pushing the cup of steaming coffee on the table towards Barnum with one finger. “Here, there’s water too if you need it.”

Forcing his eyes open and squinting at the brightness of the room, Barnum glared up at Phillip before reluctantly taking the mug to nurse. “Did I sleep here?”

“No, I just broke into your house and dragged you here by your foot while you were unconscious,” the younger man teased, raising his eyebrows before sitting down. “Yeah, you stumbled in at around 3am, nearly broke my door down with your knocking. Then passed out on the couch.”

Barnum let out another groan into one palm, his eyes drift shut again to keep out the light. “Sorry, it was entirely inappropriate of me to come here. I must have far passed my threshold for the drink.”

“You don’t say.”

“It won’t happen again”

Phillip frowned a little, picking up the other coffee cup on the table to take a sip himself. “So you and Charity…”

The older man choked on his mouthful of coffee and Phillip grabbed the bin in case he was going to be sick. He wasn’t. It was obvious he hadn’t realised he’d told the other man about his separation in the drunken haze.

“How much did I-?”

“Just that you separated. Nothing else. I didn’t want to pry while you were… like that,” Phillip muttered gently, holding up a hand in careful reassurance. “Do you….have anywhere to stay?”

Barnum shook his head a little with closed eyes before glugging down another piping hot mouthful of coffee. “Mm. I’ll just stay at the Circus. I’ll be able to find a new place by the end of the week. I’m still paying for the house for Charity and the girls, I insisted. I just…can’t go back there yet. We need some… time apart.”

Phillip gave his business partner’s shoulder a gentle nudge and lowered his brows. “C’mon, you don’t have to stay at the Circus, you can stay here for the week. I can help you look for a new place in the evenings.”

Barnum cracked one eye open and raised an eyebrow at his younger business partner before screwing it shut and returning his face to the protection of his palm once again. “Phil, you know I can’t let you offer me lodging. I’ll get in your way if we’re together 24/7.”

“Look, you sad it yourself, you’ll find a place by the end of the week. Let me put you up until then, it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me over the years,” Phillip insisted, giving Barnum a pat on the back. “Besides, it might be nice to have company in the evenings. Ever since Anne and I halted our courting, I haven’t had quite as much company outside of work.”

Barnum hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod, putting down his empty coffee cup. “Only if you’re sure. Thank you, Phillip.”

Phillip smiled, shifting to his feet and wandering off to find his work bag. “Good. Now go get cleaned up, carriage will be here in ten minutes.”

\--

Two shows a day wasn’t much, but was certainly enough to drain one’s energy. It was just until the Circus was more financially stable after the re-build, however. One show was in the early afternoon, more family-centred for younger children. They’d let the audience wander around and pet the animals after the performance, for a charge of course. The evening show was the more intense production.

Phillip had insisted on running both shows today. While Barnum had protested that he was perfectly sober enough to perform, Phillip still didn’t think it was the best idea for him to be running around like that after a night of drinking. Besides, the older man didn’t quite look himself at the moment. That cheerful grin and eccentric hop in his step seemed as fake as his advertising. Phillip could tell he was still feeling rather broken up, even if he wasn’t prepared to let the circus know it.

Pulling off his hat from the first performance, Phillip wandered backstage to congratulate everyone on a good show. After patting backs and laughing along with jokes, he eventually sank down next to Anne on a hay bale beside her vanity table. “That new performance with the rope dancing was incredible in practise yesterday, why didn’t you use it in the show?”

Anne dabbed her powder brush against her nose, watching her mirror instead of giving him eye contact. “Saving it for the evening show,” she responded carelessly, “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, Carlyle? You never do the morning show.”

Leaning back on the bale slightly, Phillip paused for a moment before humming dismissively. “Just changing things up a bit.”

She graced him with a judgmental glance, raising one eyebrow incredulously.

“…Fine. Something happened last night, I’m picking up the slack out of pity,” he murmured under his breath, giving her a serious look.

When she continued staring silently at him in response, he breathed a sigh through his nose and glanced around to ensure they weren’t being listened to. “Let’s grab dinner before practise.”

Willingly enough, Anne put down her brush and grabbed her shawl, hopping up to follow him. There was a tavern half a mile down the docks that the fishermen ate dinner at in the evenings, it was always silent around lunch time while they were out at sea. Anne and Phillip had long decided that this was a good place for more private discussions.

\--

“-So I managed to get him to work, but he’s really hungover. I left him sleeping on the couch in the office just before the show, kinda hoping he’ll just be out for the rest of the day. He wasn’t in good shape.” Phillip finished explaining over the table, sipping at his glass of whisky and finally scooping up a forkful of cooling stew to hungrily wolf down.

Anne slowly tasted her glass of wine before gently putting it down, nodding thoughtfully as she listened. “So Barnum and his wife, they’re really separating? That’s so sad for the children. They made such a good couple, I never thought we’d see the day.”

Nodding cautiously, Phillip swallowed his food and scraped his fork around a little sadly. “He’s insisting on continuing to pay for their lifestyle, it sounds like they ended on good terms. Besides, knowing PT, he’d never let his kids grow up without him. I’m sure they’ll work something out.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, picking at her food a bit before meeting eyes with him again. “Are you sure letting him stay with you is a good idea?”

Phillip frowned, forehead wrinkling in confusion before he spoke. “What do you mean? I’m not gonna just let him sleep on a pile of hay at the circus…”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Carlyle,” Anne responded warningly, putting down her fork and giving him an accusing look. “You have feelings for a man who is having troubles with his wife and is potentially vulnerable and heartbroken. Now he’s staying in close quarters with you?”

Phillip choked on his mouthful and banged on his chest with his fist for a few moments until he regained his breath. He offered her an offended grimace.

“Are you suggesting I’d take advantage of him? You know I’m not like that, Anne,” he snapped, grabbing his napkin to dab at his mouth. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping my feelings to myself, I’m not ignorant. I know having those kinds of feelings for another man isn’t proper, and I certainly know that PT isn’t interested in anything like that. I’d never suggest anything of the sort to him, especially when he’s going through something like this.”

Anne held up her hands defensively, giving a dismissive shake of her head before returning to her food. “I’m just saying, you’re not good at being subtle about your feelings. Make sure you’re careful. You getting all smitten is only going to confuse him and make things awkward for the both of you”.

Downing the rest of his drink, Phillip gave her a sulky glance. “I’ll have you know I am very good at being subtle. It’s one of the charms I’ve mastered as a gentleman.”

“When you first joined the Circus, you started leaving flowers outside of my room every night and wrote poetry to me.”

“You were giving me the eyes! I knew you were interested back. I’d never do that to someone I knew wasn’t interested,” he argued, the fluster in his voice getting harder to hide.

Anne gave him a small nod, as if accepting his point. She finished her food and left her drink half full, not wanting to be tipsy for the next performance. “Does he know where your interests lie?”

Phillip winced a little, scraping up the last of his food then dabbing himself with his napkin before reaching for his wallet to sort out the bill. “No. You can’t tell anyone either, it’ll make things awkward. I’m just being a good friend, okay?”

\--

“I’ll do both shows tomorrow to make up for it,” Barnum murmured apologetically, eyes fixed on the paperwork he was filling out for health and safety on the new ropes.

“I keep telling you, don’t worry about it. It was kinda fun doing both shows anyway. Nobody would have expected you to perform while you’re this hungover,” Phillip replied casually as he shed his sweaty ringmaster’s coat and fanned himself with his hat, climbing onto the office couch to sit down for a moment. “Besides, you got through a ton of paperwork. It wasn’t a wasted day.”

“It’s my own fault for getting that hungover in the first place,” he grunted back. Phillip could practically hear the man’s eyes rolling.

“It happens to the best of people. I’ve passed my alcohol limits lots of times. Plus, you were having a rough night. It’s in the past.”

Finishing the form, Barnum put down his pencil and twisted in his chair to glance at his partner. He leaned his chin on one hand and his eyelids drooped in an exhausted gaze. Philip couldn’t help finding the older man’s relaxed posture somewhat charming.

“Can we just go home? I just want to move on to tomorrow.”

Phillip sat up and stretched his arms behind his head lazily with an agreeable noise. “Mm, yeah. Home sounds good. I’m exhausted.”

He pushed the top hat back onto his head, rummaging for his bag before watching Barnum as he half-heartedly dumped his pencil back in its pot and slumped his own coat on. Even his posture looked unhappy, the man was radiating a look of hopelessness he’d never beheld before and it made Phillip’s stomach hurt.

“PT…do you want to talk?”

Barnum paused in buttoning up his jacket to glance over, trying once again to put on that empty showman smile. “Talk about what?”

With a sigh, Phillip frowned and slowly moved over to stand a little closer to the other man. “Why did you and Charity separate? What happened last night? Are you….you know….doing okay?” He asked a little impatiently.

“I’m fine,” Barnum responded, voice firm and somewhat lacking in the usual emotion. “It’s personal. We just have different…needs. It was a mutual decision. It’s the best thing for us both. We’ll stay good friends, best friends, and I’ll always keep being there for my girls. It was just a stressful night, a big change.”

Phillip could tell by the tone that his business partner was very much not in the mood for further explanation, so respectfully left it alone. He grabbed the man’s hat for him and tugged open the door to head off. “Well, just, if you need someone to talk things out with. You know where to find me.”

The man sniffed in response and Phillip rolled his eyes as he led them out towards the front to hail a carriage.


	3. Just a friendly act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evenings aren't so long when you have someone by your side, even if that someone happens to be the person your heart is yearning for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, that means you've probably read like two whole chapters of a fic I've written already, which means I love you. Thank you so much for giving this story a chance!
> 
> Another thanks to Schizanthus as well, I really appreciate your mad editing skills. You are a gift <3
> 
> Please please please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!! They motivate me to keep going.

“After dinner, would you run a bath? I probably overexerted myself a bit in the ring today, perhaps I’m out of shape,” Phillip laughed to his valet through his bedroom door, wandering out moments later in a fresh shirt. He tugged a glass from Barnum’s hand as he walked past, not giving the man a chance to pour the whisky he was holding in the other.

“You’ve had enough for the next week or two, time to lay off.”

He earned a disapproving grunt in response, but Barnum didn’t fight back and instead put the bottle back down dejectedly.

“You didn’t have to do both shows, I was fine to do the evening show.”

“You absolutely were not. You still look like you’re ready to keel over any second now,” Phillip muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve told Gerald to make a soup, you need to eat something and this’ll go down easily. Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipped lunch.”

Barnum flopped down on the couch in irritation, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “You sound like someone’s disapproving mother, Carlyle.”

“Maybe if you stopped acting like an infant, it would be easier for people to speak to you like an adult. Feet off my table, that’s an antique.”

In the most unenthusiastic way possible, the older man dragged his feet back to the floor, narrowing his eyes sulkily. “Now you sound like Charity,” he grumbled under his breath, folding his arms as he leaned back against the velvet cushions.

With a sigh, Phillip shifted over to collapse down next to his partner, nudging his shoulder genially before allowing a gentle silence to wash over them.

“It’s the first time I’ve come home from the Circus and not been greeted by my girls,” Barnum muttered. His shoulders lost their tension slightly as if the words carried away a burden with them as they left. Softly, he pressed his shoulder against Phillip’s, allowing the younger man to take some of his weight. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be snapping at you, Phil.”

“It’s fine, really,” Phillip answered all too quickly, a little distracted by the proximity of the other man. The scent of alcohol still lingered on him from the other night, mixed with the familiar smell of faint cologne and wood shavings that he’d associated with Barnum since the day they’d met.

“I wonder if they miss me.”

The barely whispered words pulled Phillip back to the present and he carefully put a hand on Barnum’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “Of course they miss you. You’ll see them again when you’re ready.”

“Yeah. I know, I know.”

“Do they-“ Phillip pondered quietly, pausing to consider the words, “Do the girls…know?”

The expression on Barnum’s face told him that they did not before the older man had even opened his mouth to respond. He looked guilty, almost ashamed. It was a jarring change from his ever-confident and risk-taking norm.

“We agreed not to tell them. Not yet. They’ll have questions that I’m…not sure I can answer. Besides, Caroline has her end of year recital soon and I don’t want to upset her when she’s already worrying about that,” he explained. “They both think I’m on a recruitment trip, out looking for new acts. I’ll tell them the truth when the time is right”.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. I know they’ll understand, and you’ll always be their dad,” Phillip encouraged, about to speak again when he was interrupted by the entrance of the valet. Instinctively, he pulled himself away from the older man and sat up straight.

Bowls were placed in front of them and Phillip gave the man a small nod to dismiss him before picking up his spoon. “Not much of a dinner, but easy to swallow if you’re not feeling yourself.”

Sighing heavily, Barnum picked up his own bowl and swirled the liquid around with his spoon in disinterest, avoiding taking a mouthful for as long as possible. “Your hospitality is appreciated,” he muttered softly, finally forcing a spoonful into his mouth. He relaxed slightly afterwards, clearly not as nauseous as he thought he was.

Phillip twisted to face him, pulling his knees onto the sofa to sit cross-legged as he watched his business partner with a concerned intensity. “Since we’re gonna be spending more time together, might as well make use of it,” he declared, noticing the showman’s eyes dart to him in curiosity, clearly having his attention. “Throw me your newest ideas for the show. We can map out some new performances this evening and tomorrow I can start researching any new equipment we might need for them.”

“Phil, I really don’t know if I’m in the mood for-“

“It’ll take your mind off things,” Phillip interrupted, pausing to eat a spoonful of soup before continuing. “Besides, I’m tired of seeing you sulk like this. I want to talk to P.T. Barnum, the man who’s entire life burnt to ashes only for him to get back up and rebuild like it was nothing, smile on his face the whole time.”

Barnum snorted in response. “Only with your help,” he remarked, barely coherent through his mouthful of food.

“Well, I’m here now, and I’ll help you again. So finish your damn food and tell me about your ridiculous new plans to make the show bigger and better than ever.”

The tone of the words seemed to take Barnum off-guard and he paused before swallowing his mouthful. He hesitantly watched Phillip’s expression before letting out a defeated chuckle. “Alright.”

Phillip’s lip twitched into a smirk and he relaxed a little, letting his feet slip back to the ground as he once again leaned his shoulder against Barnum’s. Finishing up the last of his soup, he shoved away his bowl to give the planning session his full attention.

“I have a great idea for the aerial acts. How many of them can swim?”

\--

Curled up beneath his sheets, Phillip turned over to press his face into the cooler side of the pillow. It was nearly one in the morning and he inwardly cursed himself for staying up late after the lack of sleep the night before. Still, his chest was left with a warm feeling knowing that Barnum had fallen asleep on the couch in a significantly better mood than he had been in all day. By the time Phillip had taken his bath the water had been nearly cold. Still, it wasn’t worth complaint; being so close to his business partner all evening had left him feeling a little hotter under the collar than he cared to admit.

Shifting onto his back, he groaned a little under his breath. It was late and he was tired, yet sleep refused to wash over him. Anne’s words of warning rattled around in his brain, lingering despite his best attempts to silence them.

Was it a bad idea to open his home to P.T. Barnum, the man whose confidence and charisma made his heart beat funny and his stomach flutter? Of course, he hadn’t meant any harm by it. Opening his door to a friend in need was something he’d do for anyone at the Circus.

Anne was right, as she nearly always was. Being so close to the object of his forbidden desires was difficult. The entire evening, he had listened to the showman explain his plans for mermaid-themed acts and new dance routines centred around himself riding a lion.They were eccentric ideas which would have to be toned down in practise, but Barnum’s excited grin and ever charming words had bound Phillip’s heart as surely as any ropes. Sitting right next to Barnum, he could feel the warmth of his skin beneath his jacket; the huskiness of his voice vibrated in Phillip’s ears and left him almost lightheaded.

But Barnum was not his. Even having these kinds of thoughts was wrong and Phillip knew it. The man was married, had children. Even if his marriage was falling apart, he was still a family man. He was relying on Phillip, leaning on him. Phillip needed to be a good friend, even if that meant forcing down the feelings that simmered beneath his skin, craving the older man’s body and mind for his own.

Besides, he was a man.

Phillip couldn’t stop the quiet chuckle forcing its way out into his pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut once more and buried his face deeper in the cotton, sighing dejectedly. It wasn’t unheard of; men having affairs with other men, especially of the sexual kind. It was a scandalous act though, and reputations could be ruined if word got out. He could only imagine what kind of bad publicity it could bring to the circus.

Breathing heavily through his nose to repress a sad whine threatening to rise from the back of his throat, he rolled back to the other side of his bed. Phillip wished it was just his partner’s body he craved, perhaps that would be something he could satisfy with others or even by his own hand. No, he yearned for everything, the crush of his solid embrace, the tickle of his stubble when kissing that grizzled face, the comfort of tenderly entwined fingers after a rough day.

A man falling in love with another man, now that was unheard of.

Pressing a palm to his closed eyes to prevent any pent-up tears from escaping, Phillip sat back up. It was ridiculous get upset over illicit thoughts, infantile to shed tears over them. Perhaps he was as spoiled as his father claimed.

Making as little sound as possible, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled out to the kitchen. If sleep was going to elude him, he was at least going to drown the bitter thoughts with a tipple or two.

Passing the living room, he peered around the doorway to check on his new housemate, breath catching in his throat when he noticed the couch devoid of its Barnum-shaped heap.

“You can’t sleep either?”

The sudden voice behind Phillip made him yelp and he instinctively twisted around, thumping into the older man’s chest and knocking him back a bit.

Barnum held up both hands defensively, rubbing at the injury with a small pained huff. “Calm down, Phil, it’s only me.”

“What makes you think that sneaking up on someone in the middle of the night is an acceptable thing to do, P.T.? Jesus fucking Christ,” Phillip grumbled snippily, catching his breath after a few moments and giving his partner a swat on the shoulder.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t think you were going to panic and shriek like that,” Barnum chided gently, eyes rolling slightly in the dim light. “Sorry. Just not sleeping well, thought perhaps you were awake for the same reasons. Silly of me to assume, really.”

Phillip rubbed one eye in exhaustion, leaning into the wall behind him to eye up his partner. His stomach lurched eagerly as he processed the words, a warm wave of hope washed over him for just a moment. The very thought that P.T. was awake with the same heartache as he was.

“I think sleeping alone is just bringing back memories. Just…last time I slept alone was after the fire. Sometimes I still see smoke when I close my eyes. Everything I loved being engulfed by the flames,” Barnum murmured quietly, low voice rumbling in the silence of the apartment.

Sighing quietly, Phillip felt the tension in his shoulders release. Hope melted into pity. He understood. Many more times than he’d be comfortable to admit outloud, he’d woken up from violent nightmares of being trapped beneath burning rubble. Sometimes, he still wheezed and coughed despite the air in his bedroom being clean and fresh. The fire took everything from him, from all of them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the whole troupe was still shaken.

Barnum clicked his tongue quietly, eyes drifting away from Phillip. “It’s crazy to still be haunted by something that happened so long ago, everything is fixed now. I’ve never been a man to dwell on the past, but being here with you…” He paused, eyes closing with what Phillip could only recognise as a look of regret. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d died in that fire, Carlyle. You’re the best friend I have, I don’t think I’d have ever been able to forgive myself.”

“I’m still here though, I didn’t die. Like you said, everything is fixed now.” Phillip found his mouth moving before his tired brain could really comprehend the words. He allowed the silence to wash over them for a moment, carefully watching the slightly scrunched up expression on Barnum’s face as he stared back towards the living room.

“Do you want to stay in my bed? If sleeping alone is inducing unpleasant memories” he asked, perhaps a little too fast. When the words registered in his head, Phillip felt like his stomach dropped from a high building. His tongue caught in his throat for a moment, then more words spilled out to catch his mistake.

“It’s a large bed, I just meant for moral support. Nothing strange or personal. Besides, you look like an injured spider trying to squash your long legs onto the couch.”

Pausing curiously, Barnum seemed to ponder the offer. He inclined his head in a single nod after a few moments. “Very kind of you, I’ll try not to snore.”

Phillip wondered if he’d heard the words correctly, head swimming in fluster and exhaustion as he tried to comprehend the situation. “Wait, you-“

“I won’t take up much space, don’t you worry,” Barnum chuckled, wandering past Phillip and letting himself into the bedroom.

Listening to the creak of the bedsprings as the showman flopped onto his bed, Phillip managed to snap himself out of his daze and follow. He lingered at the door for a few moments, watching the man’s silhouette sprawled out at the edge of the bed, sharp shoulders catching the moonlight from the window.

Stomach doing flips, he allowed his legs to carry him forward and carefully climbed into bed next to Barnum, hoping the darkness of the room was enough to hide just how flushed his face was getting. He twisted immediately to face the opposite wall, hoping he could blank out the fact that his partner was in bed with him. He let out a shaky breath and forced his eyes shut. Just being a good friend, he thought to himself, just doing the right thing.

“G’night Phil,” came the ever-familiar husky voice from behind him. Phillip could feel the bed vibrate with the man’s speech and felt as if he was ascending to another realm of existence.

“Yeah…Goodnight PT,” he muttered back, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep for the next several hours.

“Sleep well.”


	4. A Cursed Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lost bet, a royal tea party, and a mystery. It's a busy morning for Phillip Carlyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Christ, there's actual people reading this. Okay. Hi there.  
> I hope you're enjoying the story! Please continue to leave comments if you can. I really appreciate them! <3  
> I'm super glad you're joining me in watching these Circus boys and their shenanigans.

The Circus was always full of life on Fridays, it was the biggest show of the week and by far the most popular. Every act performed, indoor fireworks dazzled, and the animal parade always captivated the younger members of the audience. There were still a good few hours until curtain and yet the tent was filled with shrill laughter and voices as the troupe sang their hearts out during rehearsal.

Phillip had managed to slip away to the office to escape the festivities for a moment. It had been four days since he’d allowed his co-ringmaster to share his home and, thankfully, Barnum’s spirits seemed to be gradually rising and he was a lot more willing to settle back into his role of taking charge. It gave Phillip the chance to step back more than he had been able to, for which he was grateful. While he adored his job at the circus, the exciting atmosphere and close-knit friendships, he’d never been particularly assertive, much to his father’s disgust.

With a sigh of relief, he relaxed at his desk, shrugging off his ringmaster’s jacket to drape over the back of his chair and pulling forwards a pile of uninteresting insurance forms he’d been meaning to fill out. The muffled sound of a crash followed by Lettie’s near hysterical laughter drifting through the office walls told him that someone was messing around with the Lyra who wasn’t supposed to be. Phillip’s lips tugged up at the corner in gentle fondness of the ridiculously fun natured family he’d chosen for himself. He’d take this kind of childish mischief and immature humour over a stuffy upper-class party any day.

“Sneaking away from rehearsals early today, Carlyle?”

The sudden masculine voice made him almost shoot up out of his chair, head turning sharply to watch as W.D. carefully pushed open the door to let himself in, followed closely by Anne.

“Your stamina is terrible. Don’t think we didn’t see you sneak off,” Anne chimed in playfully, gently pushing past her brother to prop herself up on Phillip’s desk.

Running his hand through his hair with a soft chuckle, Phillip shook his head, pushing the paperwork back to regard them both with his full attention. “It’s not because I’m tired, I’ve just got to finish this. Besides, P.T. has everything under control out there.” Cocking an eyebrow, he glanced over at W.D. “Shouldn’t you two still be practising rather than concerning yourselves over what I’m doing?”

“Are you gonna tell us to get back to work, Mr Ringleader?” Anne questioned with friendly mocking as she leaned back to glance over the insurance forms with disinterest. “Haven’t had a chance to talk to you for a few days. Wanted to find out how your new living arrangements were going.”

“Anne and I have bets on whether or not you’ve managed to keep it in your pants,” added her brother with a wry smirk.

The words had Phillip shooting out of his seat in alarm, eyes fixing on Anne in a flurried mixture of panic and despair. “YOU TOLD YOUR BROTHER?”

“I tell my brother everything.” She shrugged, unphased yet somewhat amused at the man’s reaction.

“Relax, Carlyle. I’m not here to judge you, just want to know whether Anne owes me a shiny dime or not.”

Almost choking while trying to make words, Phillip slumped back into his chair and pressed his palm to his forehead, hoping that the siblings wouldn’t consider his embarrassment a false affirmative to their question. “You can’t go around telling people about this. You know that rumours like that cause scandals,” he grumbled into the hot skin of his hand. “I haven’t made any kind of advance, I’m just being a good friend. That’s all. I’m not some kind of animal.”

“Told you. He promised he wouldn’t make a move. Mr Carlyle is a man of his word,” Anne chirped smugly, giving her older brother a gentle slap on the chest to prompt him into unwillingly handing her the coin in his pocket.

“I still don’t trust him,” W.D. offered back with just the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Whether you trust me or not, at least give me the credit I’m due. I’m no idiot. I know better than to voice such an outrageous attraction. P.T. would probably run for the hills if he thought I had ulterior motives for letting him stay. Which I absolutely do not, by the way. I’d offer my home to any member of this Circus, my inappropriate passing fancy plays no part in this. It’s just an embarrassing burden making the situation more difficult on my end.”

Phillip slumped over slightly in his chair, rubbing at one shoulder in slight irritation and hoping to avoid eye contact as best he could. When no immediate response graced him, he couldn’t help but curiously glance up at the siblings from his seat.

W.D. perched himself casually on the edge of Barnum’s desk, while Anne shuffled herself a little closer on Phillip’s.

“So it is making it harder for you then?” Anne questioned gently. “You really are smitten over Mr Barnum, aren’t you?”

Letting out a sigh, Phillip let his head sink to his desk in defeat. He groaned slightly under his breath to emphasize his irritation with her inability to drop the subject.

“It’s ridiculous, I know it is. He doesn’t make it easy, either. I allowed him to share my bed one night, he looked so cramped on the couch and was awake for half the night with plagued dreams, but now he climbs into my bed every night without prompt.” He ran his hand through the back of his hair, then propping his chin up on one hand, hoping the red in his cheeks could be passed off as the room being warm. “I know I should tell him not to, but I’d hate to be rude. It’s clearly helping him sleep. Perhaps…a part of me likes it, too. Getting to pretend he’s mine, getting to feel the vibrations of his breathing and his warmth under my blankets.”

He glanced over to catch Anne glancing over at her brother with an almost incredulous look.

“Forget smitten, this kid is lovesick something awful,” W.D. muttered over, looking just a little too smug for Phillip’s liking as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not lovesick,” he argued exhaustedly. Eyes rolled in his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“Oh, he’s so lovesick,” Anne snorted back, offering Phillip a look of mock sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Anne! I’m not-“

“PHILLIP!”

He came to a sudden stop as the shrill of a familiar voice cut through the air along with footsteps echoing down the hallway. Phillip managed to sit up just in time to catch the two young girls who all but burst into his office and scrambled straight to his lap. His surprise at their sudden entrance quickly faded into laughter as he gave them both a squeeze, before standing up to put them back on their feet. Helen was still giggling and immediately threw herself around his legs again.

“What are you two monkeys doing here? Is your mother with you?” he asked, reaching down to stroke Helen’s hair while glancing at the older girl for answers. “You both know that you’re supposed to knock before entering your daddy’s office.”

“Daddy sent us here, he said to go and find you because Mommy said she needs to talk to him in private,” Caroline announced, tugging slightly at her skirt. Phillip could tell that she was old enough to know something was wrong, even if both of her parents were refusing to discuss it with her.

“You two are very grown up to give your parents some space, why don’t W.D. and I go grab you some biscuits? Perhaps you can have a tea party with Mr Carlyle while you wait for them to be finished,” Anne suggested sweetly. Phillip noticed that her brother had already started slinking towards the door.

“Will you have a tea party with us? We’d need a princess and Phillip isn’t very good at it. Last time he passed wind at the table, princesses don’t pass wind,” Helen questioned loudly, tilting her head to glance over lovingly at Anne.

“It was the chair squeaking. I didn’t- That wasn’t me. I didn’t do that,” Phillip coughed out awkwardly, glancing over to give a disappointed look to the door as he heard the quiet sound of W.D. snorting from the hallway.

Anne let out a quiet chuckle under her breath, shaking her head with a soft smile. “I’d be honoured to be the princess. However, with two little princesses at the table already, it’s going to be a rather royal affair. I’ll make sure I find only the fanciest biscuits.”

Helen squeaked in delight, pulling away from Phillip’s legs to beam up at Anne as she wandered over to give Phillip a smug look.

“You girls keep an eye on your unladylike princess for five minutes until I get back.”

“It really was the chair,” he murmured quietly, folding his arms behind his back.

“Perhaps you can get him to tell you all about his magical princess love story,” she teased as she slipped back out with acrobatic grace before Phillip could so much as close his gaping mouth.

“I’m not in-“

“PHILLIP IS IN LOVE,” Helen shrieked at a volume that made him want to be swallowed whole by the floorboards beneath him.

“Who are you in love with?” Caroline followed up in a voice barely higher than a whisper, her face less ecstatic than her younger sister yet still filled with curiosity. “Is it a real princess?”

Sitting back down in his chair and hoping the feeling of horror wasn’t apparent in his expression, Phillip let out a sigh. “Not exactly a princess. Look, It’s... complicated.” He murmured softly, trying to string together a way to explain. “An evil witch put me under a curse to stop me from ever saying I love you to this person. Unless I find some miracle or a magical fairy godmother, I’m afraid that this is one love story that isn’t going anywhere.”

Helen crawled back into the man’s lap, her ear-to-ear grin fading away as she did. Caroline chose to drag over her father’s desk chair to sit next to the man.

“Why did a witch put a curse on you? Did you do something wrong?”

Phillip cleared his throat, eyes shooting to the door hesitantly before continuing., “Well no. The witch just doesn’t approve of the person I like. Love is a tricky thing, you can’t always help who you fall for even if it’s the wrong kind of person. Sometimes witches, and even normal humans aren’t always happy about who you choose, just like your grandmother and grandfather weren’t happy about your mother marrying your father because he comes from a different background. Society is strange in its ways. It’s nothing for you fine young ladies to concern yourselves with until you are much older.”

Caroline scooted slightly closer in her chair to lean her head against the man’s shoulder. “Me and Helen will find that mean old witch and MAKE her break the curse. You deserve to have true love, Phillip.”

Carefully, Phillip stood up and lifted Helen back to the ground once more, dusting himself off. “It’s not just because of the witch, there’s a lot of other reasons. As I said, it’s complicated,” he insisted, giving the girl’s head a comforting pat. “Neither of you can mention this conversation to anyone, alright? It’s important, I’m not ready for anyone outside of this room to know that I’m cursed. I’m trusting you both to keep this a secret, can you handle this responsibility?”

“I can keep a secret! I’m good at secrets,” Helen declared proudly, crossing her arms and lifting her chin up to give him an approving nod. Caroline only nodded softly in silence.

“Can I tell you a secret too?” The older girl asked quietly, peering up at him through her eyelashes nervously.

Able to instantly tell that the young girl was tied up about something, Phillip knelt down to face them both at their level, nodding with a serious frown. “Of course.”

Tugging at her skirt a little more, the older girl swung her legs in the chair and glanced at the door hesitantly before sweeping her eyes back to Phillip and her younger sister. “I think mommy and daddy are fighting. Mommy says they’re not but daddy isn’t living at home right now and mommy got flowers from someone who wasn’t daddy the other day.”

Opening his mouth slightly in hope that reassuring words would form, Phillip closed it again quickly. He hadn’t really given much consideration to the reasons why the ringleader and his wife had parted ways, hadn’t dared to ask too much after the first day of their living arrangements. The realisation that perhaps Charity had found another gentleman to fall for was a surreal one, she certainly didn’t seem the type to move on. Neither of them did.

“Phillip, are mommy and daddy going to get a divorce?” Helen asked suddenly, cutting him off before he could respond, a slight tremor in her voice. “Do they not love each other anymore?”

He didn’t know, and suddenly that was something just a little bit frightening.

“Of course your mother and father still love each other.” His voice began before the words had registered. Carefully he pulled Helen into a gentle squeeze, offering his other arm for the older girl to join in if she should so choose. She did, and he wrapped her up tight as well. “Both of your parents are full to the brim with love. Sometimes when adults get older, they just…question things about themselves. Sometimes those questions take time to figure out.”

Thankfully before he could proceed with an explanation he didn’t have, the door creaked open and Anne entered equipped with a tray of biscuits, followed by Lettie bearing a teapot and a very unamused looking W.D. “I’ve brought along some more princesses too. I’m sure you girls won’t mind giving them a makeover before we begin our royal tea?”

“I’M GONNA MAKE YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!” Helen shrieked, completely forgetting the conversation to run over and throw herself on W.D., who couldn’t help but drop his irritated expression to start chuckling.

Phillip’s eyes drifted to Caroline, who gave him a small smile before hopping up to join her sister, clearly not able to let go of the questions but perfectly willing to put them on hold for the moment.

Meandering over to Anne as the other two started to giggle along with the girls, Phillip gently took her to one side with a serious glance. “I need to go find P.T. and Mrs Barnum. These girls have questions I don’t know how to answer and I don’t know what they’re being told at the moment. Need to get the facts straight.”

Anne seemed to ponder over the words for a moment before giving him a firm nod and a small pat on the back. “We’ll take over from here. You go.”

\--

It wasn’t hard to find the Barnums. The moment Phillip stepped back into the tent, he could tell that the atmosphere had changed. Whether the troupe had figured out that something was going on between their ringleader and his wife or not, it was clear that they could feel the tension in the air. There was slightly less chatter in the room and the laughter had died down. The back room that people seemed to be avoiding was Phillip’s first port of call.

Tugging open the door, he hesitated in the doorway to glance at the couple across the room talking to each other in hushed voices. Neither of them looked in very good spirits and it was unnerving. Barnum was avoiding eye contact with Charity and seemed to be unconsciously playing with the hem of his jacket, while his wife was wringing her delicate hands and watching his expression with pained eyes. Two highly confident individuals, whom Phillip had seen dance together a thousand times, now looked like uncomfortable strangers in each other’s presence. It felt surreal.

He was unable to make out what they were saying other than the occasional softly spoken word.

…“-unsure about-“ …

…”-miss you-“ ...

…“-rumours could-“ ….

…“-said that-“ …..

…“and the girls are-“

Philip knocked gently on the wall beside him, flinching as they both suddenly shot him their attention like a couple of deer in headlights. “I uh….sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine, Phil. Come in,” Barnum invited gently, gesturing the man over and faking a showman’s grin. “Are the girls not behaving?”

Pausing before entering, Phillip drifted over and stopped before the two politely, giving a soft nod of regards to Charity before turning to speak to Barnum. “Good as gold, but they seem a bit out of sorts with your current….arrangement. I didn’t want to interfere and confuse things. They seem to have a lot of questions.”

“I’m so sorry, Phillip. We shouldn’t have brought you into this,” Charity exclaimed softly, giving his shoulder an affectionate pat. “We’ll talk to them. It’s just a little difficult at the moment when it’s still a new arrangement for us as well. We should have spoken to them sooner.”

Clearing his throat, Phillip folded his hands behind his back and smiled at her kindly, hoping to come across as trustworthy as possible. Curiosity was eating away at him, and there was something of a bitter feeling lingering in his stomach at even the thought that Mrs Barnum could be cheating on her husband. “May I perhaps ask, if it’s not too forward, what prompted your current arrangements?”

“You haven’t told him?”

The surprise in Charity’s voice as she turned to her husband with an accusing look threw Phillip off.

“It’s rather a personal thing, Phil. We are both interested in pursuing different…paths. That’s all,” the ringleader responded firmly, clearing his throat and stepping forward a bit.

“Different….paths?”

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Barnum slowly but insistently led Phillip towards the door. Phillip could tell that Charity knew something that he wasn’t being told. “C’mon, Phil. I’m sure the girls are wearing out whoever you left them with. I haven’t seen them in a while. Let’s go and entertain them for a bit, okay?”

Giving up on making an argument after recognising this was a topic the couple clearly did not want to discuss, he gave a final wave to Charity as Barnum ejected him from the room. With a small sigh and a nod, he willingly led the way to rejoin the girls with his business partner. It would have to remain a mystery to be solved another day.


	5. The Kitchen Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are moments in the dead of night where smoke burns Phillip's eyes and fear grips his heart. Luckily he doesn't have to deal with it alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably gathered now by Chapter Five, I am really not the best with Authors Notes and have no idea what to write here.  
> Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who's commented so far!! You guys are making me super passionate to keep going with this! Please keep leaving your notes, I really love to hear what you think, it makes my day. <3
> 
> Big thanks to Schizanthus again for editing!!! You are a gift to earth and I owe you at least twelve chocolate bars for all your never ending support and patience.

It just happened sometimes, once in a blue moon, and Phillip never could quite pinpoint what caused it. It always happened in the dead of night, when darkness filled his apartment and the only sounds were the faint clacks of carriage wheels on the cobbled streets below as they carried the last drunkards from the city bars back to their homes.

The only way he could describe it was like a pair of icy hands creeping up under his ribs and squeezing his lungs, stroking his brain and digging its claws into his stomach. He’d wake to see nothing but smoke and feel imminent death looming over him. Hysterical thoughts of finding his friend in the flames before she burned away to nothing, pain shooting through all of his limbs, making him cry out for help. The smoke made his eyes burn and his throat squeeze and he curled against the floor, coughing until he was almost sick.

Phillip knew it wasn’t real. This was his apartment, the floor cool beneath his knees, the air clear to breath. He knew. Yet the flames around him would seem so real, the ghosts of pains so intense.

This time he’d managed to make it to the kitchen before crumbling to all fours, wheezing and coughing, pressing his hot forehead to the cool tile floor. It had taken a lot to crawl that far, but the last thing he needed was Barnum waking up and seeing him like this.

Barnum might accuse him of being imbalanced and call a doctor. He probably wouldn’t be wrong in doing so, either. However, ending up in an asylum wasn’t something Phillip had much desire to see happen.

“Anne-“ He wheezed out quietly through short sharp breaths, another fit of violent coughing cutting him off. The smoke was paining his eyes and tears dripped onto the tiles. He forced his eyelids shut tight to try to stop the stinging but the tears only dripped down his cheeks faster. “A n n e! Please- Anne…..Anne…”

A warm hand suddenly pressed against his back and Phillip would have screamed if his throat didn’t feel like it was closing up.

“Sir, it’s only me.”

It was his valet. His voice was foggy over the sound of roaring flames and creaking wooden rafters, but it was recognisable.

“Gerald. Where’s Anne? I have to find her.”

“Miss Wheeler is perfectly fine. You are having one of those fits again, sir. Would you like me to fetch a doctor?”

His breath caught sharply, panic setting in at the thought of the voice going away. He’d be alone again in the fire. Throwing out his arm blindly, he tried to grab the servant’s leg, palm smacking the tiles a few times before he found it. He gripped the cuff of Gerald’s pajama trousers tightly to keep him still.

“Don’t go. Don’t leave. You have to help me find her. Please.” His own voice was becoming desperate and strained. He wasn’t sure how loud he was crying out to be heard over the flames. He could barely hear himself think. “Please!”

Gentle hands pressed, one against his chest and the other against his back, pulling him forcefully from the floor and leaning him back against the cool metal stove. The cold felt nice. They moved his knees to his chest as one hand vigorously rubbed his shoulder.

“Deep breaths, sir. You’ll snap out of it soon. Deep breaths. Relax.”

Another violent cough racked his body and he pressed his face to his knees to muffle the fearful sob he could no longer suppress.

“Can’t relax. Have to find her. I have to….oh God, I’m going to die. I’m going to die.”

“Phillip-! Phil, hey! Hey.”

Another voice, not Gerald. Someone else, they sounded clearer. The hand left his shoulder as the two conversed; he almost wept for it to come back.

“What’s happening? Is he okay, is he hurt?”

“Mr Carlyle has had moments like this a few times before, Sir. He will be okay, it seems to be rather like a waking nightmare for him. I can sit with him until he settles down.”

“I see… That won’t be necessary. Put on some tea for him, or heat some milk. I will take over from here.”

There was the sound of shuffling feet and, in terror that the voices keeping him grounded would disappear, Phillip reached out once more to grab at whatever he could. This time, he found another pair of hands, which wrapped tightly around his own. They were large hands, warm with rough skin.

“…P.T?”

“I’m here, look at me. Open your eyes.”

He found himself doing as he was told, despite the stinging of tears. After a moment to adjust to the dark room, he made out the familiar figure in front of him, soft curls of dark hair and warm amber eyes. The sight of the older man slowed his heart just slightly and made him let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Where’s-“

“Anne is safe. Look at me. Focus. What’s your name?”

He forced his eyes shut again in frustration and sucked in a struggling breath. “You know my name. I need to get-“

“Tell me it. Open your eyes, look at me. Tell me your name.”

With a small grunt of confusion he once again made bleary eye contact with Barnum. “Phillip. Phillip Carlyle.”

One of Barnum’s thumbs gently stroked the top of Phillip’s knuckles, large hands made his own feel warm and suddenly his eyes wanted to droop again. He kept them open, kept them focused. The other’s strikingly calm voice put him at ease, inspired trust.

“How old are you.”

“Twenty six years.”

“Good. Good.”

The questions were patronising but he couldn’t formulate the words to argue.

“Where are we right now, Phil?”

“The-“

His mouth shut as quickly as it opened; they were not at the Circus. There was no smoke here. No flames. Even though the ashes were stinging his sinuses and he felt far too warm.

Barnum must have sensed his hesitation because the hands around his suddenly tightened firmly.

“Look around. Look at where we are and tell me what you see.”

As instructed, he glanced hesitantly beyond Barnum. Through bleary watering eyes, he could make out the dark shapes of the stove and the counter. There was a window and he could see stars outside through its dusty glass. A single lantern sat on the kitchen table, illuminating the room with a dull light, a canister over it to hide its bright flame from clear view.

“...My apartment. The kitchen.”

Barnum’s grip softened once more and he slowly moved closer until his forehead touched Phillip’s own. Phillip’s breathing slowed slightly, shoulders sinking as he leaned forward to let his weight shift onto the older man.

“That’s right. You’re home. You’re safe. Anne is safe, no one was killed. The fire is long gone,” Barnum muttered, his voice soft and smooth, its low monotone sound soothing to Phillip’s ears. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

\--

It had taken what felt like hours for Phillip to calm completely, but in reality it was likely only about thirty minutes. He leaned his head against Barnum’s shoulder lightly as he sipped the mug of warm milk in his hands. His breath still shuddered every once in a while and his body felt beyond exhausted, yet his mind was still too crowded for him to think about going back to sleep. Shame was sinking in, though he felt too tired to be afraid of what his partner might think of him after the fiasco that just took place.

“I can send your valet out to collect some sleeping medicine, if you still feel too distraught to relax-“

“I’m fine. It’s fine now,” His voice felt raw from all the coughing. Phillip glowered at the floor quietly, in hopes of avoiding Barnum’s worried stare.

“Or maybe some ice, you feel very warm.”

“I’m fine, P.T.”

“Do you want me to give you some space.”

Phillip hesitated to give a response, and Barnum took it as an invitation to stay. His heavy arm wrapped around Phillip and pulled him a little closer. If he wasn’t so exhausted, Phillip would have tugged himself free immediately. As comforting as Barnum was, he didn’t want to be in his embrace right now. He didn’t want to be coddled like a sick child. He sulkily put down the mug on the ground and used his arms to hug his knees instead.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I understand perfectly if you think lesser of me, and only ask that you do me the favour of not reporting me to a doctor for lunacy. It won’t happen again.” Phillip’s voice was quiet and he felt his shoulders droop exhaustedly. His stomach hurt as reality settled in and he considered grimly where things would go from here.

Barnum picked up the mug, glanced at the half-drunk milk and swirled it around a little before chugging it himself. He paused silently as he listened, before putting the mug back down and giving Phillip’s shoulder a playful slap.

“You’re fine, Phil. You’re not wonky in the head. That fire did things to everyone, it’s not uncommon for the mind to play up when you’ve been through something like that. You did almost die,” he assured gently. “The whole circus was upset by that, everyone handles it differently. Lettie has to walk out sometimes mid-show, I’ve always got someone on the ready to take her place if she ever needs to. Charles gets tetchy about protesters now, even with the extra security measures we’ve got in place, he still stays up half the night with a knife sometimes. Vasily quit smoking because the smell of smoke gives him nightmares.”

Barnum’s hand reached up to run his fingers messily through Phillip’s hair.

“Just between you and me, the first time in the new tent that one of the fire jugglers dropped a baton, the moment after I put out the fire, I went straight to the store room and lost my breakfast. I couldn’t bring myself to come out for an hour. Deng eventually found me hiding behind the elephant hay and tipped a pot of water over my head.”

Phillip tugged his head away from his partner’s hand with a disapproving glare, refusing to so much as crack a smile for the relatively amusing image of Barnum looking like a drowned rat. Despite knowing Barnum was trying to reassure him, the last thing he wanted from the older man was pity.

“Those are relatively normal reactions, P.T. Not like sobbing on your kitchen floor at two in the morning and hallucinating,” he near growled, a bitterness tainting his tired voice. “Don’t pity me. Admit that I’m weak in the mind. I refuse to cower from the truth for the sake of my own pride.”

Barnum was quiet for a moment and the arm around Phillip’s back shifted away. For a second, Phillip thought his partner might just stand and leave. Go to call a doctor after all. Instead he just turned his gaze towards the window and let out a heavy breath.

“Caroline has fits like this sometimes, in the dead of night. She wakes up screaming and crying and is completely inconsolable. The first time it happened, I wanted to call for a doctor but Charity was insistent we keep it silent. Caroline is on the cusp of womanhood and it wouldn’t take much for a doctor to accuse her of suffering hysteria and to take her away,” he explained softly.

Phillip listened in silence, anger draining almost instantly at the mention of the child and being replaced with immediate concern. Without much thought, he placed a hand reassuringly on Barnum’s knee.

“My little girl is NOT hysterical. She saw her father run into a burning building and thought I’d died as it collapsed. Any child would be fretful watching someone they loved get killed in such a violent way. That’s not something a child should see. Not something anyone should see.” Barnum’s voice seemed to shift into a low snarl, the sound jarring in the silent night air. “There is nothing weak or sick about my daughter. She is a brave, confident, intelligent young woman. Just as there is nothing weak or sick about you, Phil. People’s minds handle great stress in different ways. I won’t hear any more talk about pity or weakness. Not tonight, not ever.”

Phillip gave a firm nod without any hesitation, offering Barnum’s knee a reassuring pat before removing his hand. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“You ran into a burning building to save someone, nothing about that could ever be weak. Stupid, perhaps. But never weak,” Barnum continued, his eyes pulling away from the window to meet Phillip’s once again.

Phillip’s lips finally twisted up at the corners just slightly for the first time that night and he shook his head softly. “Alright, I get the idea,” he joked gently. “You know you did the exact same thing and also ran into a burning building, right? You are just as stupid as I am.”

Barnum gave a soft grunt in response and turned to scowl at the mug on the floor instead. Phillip could tell it was more a noise of exhaustion than irritation.

“Maybe we both need to stop living in the past, huh?” he offered the older man companionably. “Isn’t that what the Circus represents? Moving forward, changing the future.”

“It represents a lot more than that,” Barnum huffed back sarcastically, giving Phillip a playful nudge with his elbow.

“My point is, you can’t go back in time and stop yourself running into that building and frightening your family. I can’t go back in time and stop the fire from spreading in the first place. Perhaps we should expend our respective energies enjoying the present and looking forward to better days ahead rather than fretting over what cannot be undone.”

Without hesitation, Barnum suddenly turned to lock eyes with him in perfect seriousness. “I wouldn’t stop myself from going back into that fire for you.”

The silence that followed his words was a long one. Phillip found himself unsure how to appropriately respond to the sentiment and instead sat in silence, watching his partner’s fierce eyes gaze into his own. He looked like a lion sworn to protect its mate, the soft light from the lantern illuminating the edges of his curled dark mane. He didn’t know what came over him as his stomach clenched in a moment of confidence and his mouth produced words that had yet to pass through a filter.

“I need to confess something to you. There are words I have needed to say to you for a long time and I can’t keep pretending that they’re not there. P.T. I think I-”

A hand pressed to his mouth and cut him off, lifting after a moment and moving around his shoulders in playful affection. “Cut it out, I won’t have any sappy emotional words in the middle of the night. You’re tired, we both are. I’m going to fetch you a glass of gin to calm your nerves and then we should head back to bed. If you still feel the need to discuss something in the morning, we’ll deal with it then.”

With an affectionate bump of his own head against Phillip’s, the elder man stood and rummaged through the cupboards with what Phillip could only assume was a fake yawn.

He watched as Barnum pulled out a bottle and a glass, then closed his eyes exhaustedly, unsure how to feel about the interruption. It was true he was likely to regret any words that came out in his current state, and yet disappointment settled in as he let go of his one chance at bravery on the topic. Perhaps it was for the best.

As he watched his partner pour the drink while staring through the kitchen window with an almost peaceful gaze. Phillip couldn’t help but wonder whether Barnum knew what he’d been about to say, and whether he had simply not been ready to hear it.


End file.
